


Unrequited, Uninformed

by TheLadyFiction



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Confusion, Emotions, Feels, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-01
Updated: 2015-11-01
Packaged: 2018-04-29 11:47:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5126393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLadyFiction/pseuds/TheLadyFiction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dorian is confused, confusion leads to confrontation and a lot of feels.</p>
<p>aka I have a lot of Dorian feels</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unrequited, Uninformed

**Author's Note:**

> Excuse the length/quality of this work, I have had writers block for about 6 months and it's been killing me and what was meant as a drabble turned into this! Saying that, comments, con-crit and reviews are always welcome!

Dorian paced, restless in his alcove. It had been three days since these thoughts, these intrusive impulses had begun. Three days since he had been able to rest, unable to untangle the mess in his mind.

He had even thought about going to Cole for help, but that would mean admitting that there was a problem.

Was there a problem?

 

Dorian slumped into his armchair, heaving a frustrated sigh.

“Venhedis,” he cursed, resting his forehead on his thumb and forefinger, the digits digging into his skull uncomfortably.

His head felt unusually heavy, perhaps a symptom of the exhaustion he was feeling, and internally he cursed himself; they had an expedition to the Hinterlands in two days, and of course Hiera has asked him along; the two were almost inseparable these days.

 

If she was not with the Bull doing, well, whatever they did in the time they had that wasn't spent drinking with the chargers, sparring or Inquisitioning, (the thought send a strange shiver through Dorian), she was with Dorian, practising her magic, honing her skills, teaching him some basic healing spells, dragging him down to the Undercroft to craft new blades for their staffs.

 

She was so patient, so understanding. Hiera had trained in for melee combat long ago, understanding that even those that did not use blades could still be harmed by them, and all it would take is a misplaced barrier, a momentary lapse of concentration... it did not bear thinking about.

 

After all, even the most powerful mage would be powerless against a blade to the chest. So they worked on strengthening their staffs, adding blades and deflection point, sparring, constantly improving. And Dorian was grateful. Grateful that someone would take the time to help him better protect himself, to involve him in every step of the process, to help develop new fighting techniques that protected him. That was always her concern.

 

Yet, he had not partaken in any further training since the last incident in the Exalted Plains the past week, Dorian caught off guard by an Arcane Horror that was focused on trying to end him, only noticing the resurrected corpse behind him with blade raised when said blade made heavy contact with the blade of Hiera's staff, inches from his neck. He had gasped, stumbled as Hiera dispatched the shambling corpse and turned her attention to the horror, Bull and Cole rounding the corner, just as the horror fell to her and Dorian's combined power.

 

He had breathed a sigh of relief, short lived when Hiera had pushed him back into the wooden wall of the ramparts, her arm across Dorian's throat, her eyes a maelstrom of fear, fury, tears pricking at the corners.

“Pay attention,” she had hissed, right in his face, teeth bared. “I am not losing you.” The venom in her voice had almost been palpable.

 

Bull and Cole had both taken a step forward, unsure of the situation, stopping dead when Hiera pulled back, releasing Dorian, who took a deep breath.

 

Without another word, Hiera had moved to loot the bodies of the dispatched enemies surrounding them. Bull had placed a gentle hand on her back, murmuring questions as he gave a side glance to Dorian. She hadn't responded, only nodded.

 

It was only when Cole spoke that Dorian realized he had moved closer to him.

“She can't imagine living without you. She thinks you are like the sun, so bright,” he said softly. Dorian swallowed, silently staring, his body still in shock. “She loves you,” had been Cole's departing words, and Dorian had stiffened immeasurably.

 

He had almost said something to Cole that he didn't mean, something rude and hurtful, mussed by the confusion in his brain.

 

He hadn't spoken to Hiera since, even when she tried to speak to him in the camp later that day. He and made his excuses and gone to practice his staff work without ever making eye contact.

 

“ _I am not losing you...” “She loves you...”_ Those words were some echoing around Dorian's head.

He felt anger buzzing in his head like a hive of bees who were under attack.

 

How could she? When she knew.

When she had been there in the tavern with his father, when he had laid everything out bare. How dare she make emotional demands of him she knew he would never be able to meet.

Dorian shook his head, as if trying to shake the negative thoughts from his mind.

 

No. Hiera wasn't like that.

Was she?

She had never made an advance. Harmless flirting on both sides, maybe. But she was with Bull, for one. And she was not one to mince her words.

 

And yet.

“ _She loves you...”_

The way she made him practice, was always defending him in a fight, the way she was his shield, not just in battle, but she had made herself a shield between him and his father during their altercation in the tavern, a shield from prying eyes when they had traipsed back from Redcliffe, Dorian's eyes still puffy and red, tears still streaming.

 

A fluttering feeling rooted itself in Dorian's chest, creating a soft warmth which felt like comfort.

Love.

It was such a foreign concept.

What is love? He wondered.

 

Tevinter wasn't exactly the best example for love, where couples married out of arrangement or for purposes of breeding. There was no desire, no affection there.

 

But this was all pointless, he reminded himself. Hiera was with Bull. They were happy. Weren't they? Dorian felt a little ill at the thought of Bull and Hiera together, kissing, cuddling.

 

What in the makers name was going on in his head?

 

Shaking his head again, once again trying to dispel with intrusive thoughts, Dorian stood up abruptly, his head rushing a little.

 

A drink.

That's what he needed to sort his head out. The familiar burn of alcohol in his throat, the sound of gossip and rumour surrounding.

 

Yes, some alcohol and some rest. In that order.

 

Waiting until the mild nausea he felt had abated, Dorian began to slowly descend the tower stairs, heading towards the Herald's rest.

 

*-*

 

Once inside, Dorian glanced around, spotting The Iron Bull in his usual spot in the back of the tavern. Bull raised his large goblet to Dorian in greeting, giving a curt nod. Dorian swallowed hard and nodded back.

 

The tavern was quite empty, only a few patrons upstairs, whispering amongst themselves, Maryden singing her soothing melodies. He felt somewhat relieved that Hiera was not here as he moved to the bar, handed a drink by the keeper almost immediately when he sat down, for which he gave a polite smile.

 

The relief was short lived, however, when he felt a presence at his side, and The Iron Bull moved to stand next to him.

Dorian smiled up at him politely, taking a sip of his drink.

 

“So,” Bull smiled back shortly (it seemed like more of a grimace, actually.) “You and the boss, huh?”

 

Dorian nearly choked on his mouthful of ale.

 

“W-what?!” he exclaimed, half slamming his mug onto the bar, making Maryden jump and hit a wrong cord. She glared towards the mage, but Dorian was too busy staring up at Bull, fear coursing through him.

 

Bull must have seen this, as he took a small step back from Dorian, his expression softening.

“It's ok, Dorian. We've all noticed. Something's changed,” he explained softly. Dorian's eyes were still bulging somewhat as he took another sip of ale, careful not to choke on this one, turning away from the Bull and his words.

“I think you should talk to her. She's been... off... too,” Bull offered, staring up at the balcony above them, seemingly lost in thought.

 

Dorian thought for a moment. This was the longest him and Hiera had been without talking to each other since they met, and though it was only three days, it felt like months. Dorian tried to offer a response, opening his mouth, but only a grunt managed to escape. There was too much going on in his head to form words right now.

 

He jumped suddenly as Bull put a large hand on his shoulder.

“I'm serious. I'm not holding anyone to blame here, but this isn't good for her,” Bull's tone was sterner now as he looked Dorian up and down. Dorian knew he was trying to get a read on him. “Or you, judging by...” Bull gestured up and down Dorian's frame.

 

Dorian huffed, his brain not even remotely ready to provide any snark back.

“What?” Bull asked, raising his hands in response. “Sorry but you look like shit, Dorian. How long has it been since you had any rest?”

 

Dorian glared at the qunari, imagining him on fire for a brief second, which caused a smirk to creep to his lips.

“Three days, give or take,” he murmured. His voice was thicker than he had thought it would be, words catching in his throat. He cleared his throat, trying to regain some composure. “But that is nothing. I've been weeks before. It doesn't matter that much.”

 

Bull raised one eyebrow at the mage, obviously unimpressed.

 

“Look, I know you're both adults but we've got shit to do, so it would make it a whole lot easier if you two would just...”

 

“It's not that simple,” Dorian sighed, suddenly sitting bolt upright when he realised the words had left his mouth. Vishante kaffas, he really needed sleep before his filter went entirely.

 

Bull's eyebrow now looked like it was trying to escape from his face entirely.

“Oh?” he questioned softly. There was no pressure behind it, just curiosity.

 

Dorian swallowed hard. All of the fears, the doubts, the anger he had felt the past couple of days was bubbling up like bile in his throat, trying desperately to escape. Tears stung at his eyes.

He couldn't do this. Not here. He couldn't break down in front of the tavern, in front of Bull.

 

His head spun faster, hurting more than ever, the throbbing now genuinely painful instead of mildly irritating. Dorian reached up, eyes closing as he grit his teeth, hissing through the pain.

“Dorian?” He heard his name, eyes feeling too swollen to open to see who was calling him.

 

Bull. Was it Bull? Was the Iron Bull here? Where was here? Dorian finally forced his eyes open, greeted with a blur of colour which made him feel sick. He tried to stand, caught by something solid, something warm. It was comforting, and the last thing he felt before a darkness took him.

 

 

*-*

 

There was a weight on Dorian's stomach when he awoke in dimly lit chambers that were definitely not his. He blinked several times, eyes adjusting to the light, vision still somewhat blurry, focussing after a few moments on the head of the inquisitor resting on his stomach, her arms splayed across his chest and legs as she slept in a chair drawn up to the bed he as currently laid in.

 

Dorian found himself smiling, though he wasn't entirely sure why. He was suddenly very aware that his throat felt like he had swallowed shards of metal, the air he inhaled catching a little. Looking around him, he briefly took in the huge carved wooden frame of the bed, larger than his own, the stone walls, the log table, on which a pitcher of water stood.

 

Trying not to cough so as to wake Hiera, he reached for the pitcher, finding himself unable to move under her weight (not much more than Dorian himself, but he wasn't ever really inclined to try and lift anywhere near his own body weight.)

 

Sighing in defeat, Dorian jumped suddenly as the door to the room opened, causing all the candles in the room to flicker for a moment as a cold breeze rolled through the room. Dorian was suddenly very aware that he was naked from the waist up, and goosebumps pricked at his skin.

The Iron Bull slid into the room quickly, closing the door and turning to face the bed, taking in the sight of Dorian, still leant towards the water pitcher, shivering, with Hiera asleep, splayed out on the bed.

 

“Oh for fuck's sake,” Bull grumbled, none too quietly, approaching the bed and reaching to Hiera, shaking her shoulder to wake her.

“Boss. Up,” he ordered.

 

Dorian opened his mouth to protest, but too late, Hiera shot up with a gasp, eyes wide, a trail of saliva down her chin.

 

“What, fuck, what?” she asked quickly, looking to Bull who was frowning at her disapprovingly.

“I told you if you were tired to go to your quarters,” he chastised her. Hiera frowned, her disposition changing massively.

“But Dorian,” she began, her voice shaking. Bull gestured behind her before she could continue.

“Is awake,” he provided.

 

Hiera's head snapped to Dorian, their eyes locking in an intense stare for a moment. Dorian was frozen to the spot, unable to move, unsure of what to do, and for the first time in their friendship, speechless.

 

“Dorian” Hiera began, scrambling up from the chair and moving towards him. Dorian swallowed hard as Hiera reached for him. She looked a wreck, auburn hair mussed and wild, amber eyes brimming with tears. She ran one hand through the mages dark hair, smoothing it down. “Dorian,” she tried again, swallowing thickly. “A-are you ok? Bull said you... you weren't well?”

 

Dorian nodded shortly, still trying to make sense of the scene before him. Bull seemed to pick up on his disorientation, and moved to Hiera, wrapping his arms around her from behind.

“Kadan,” he murmured to her, gently guiding her back from the bed. She kept eye contact with Dorian for a few more moments. There was fear there, and something Dorian couldn't place.

 

With a sigh, Hiera closed her eyes, allowing herself to be guided backwards, Bull pressing a kiss to the side of her head.

“He's ok, see? Go to your quarters. Rest. I'm here. You need to sleep too.” Hiera nodded wordlessly, turning her head to kiss Bull.

 

Dorian turned away from the display, unsure if he should be watching, but could not help his eyes flickering back up to watch as Hiera arched into Bull's touch, her eyes suddenly opening, locking on Dorian's as he saw Bull's tongue flick against hers. He felt his cheeks heat, and looked down, ashamed, the torrent of confusing thoughts rushing back into his head.

 

He heard the two separate, Bull murmuring something in Qunlat which Hiera seemed to respond to, moving to the door.

With a click, the door was closed once more, and Dorian was left alone with Bull.

 

“Twelve hours, in case you were wondering.”

Dorian looked up, surprised.

“Wha,” Dorian tried to question, finding his mouth far too dry, the words scratching like blades. Bull smiled a little, moving to the momentarily forgotten pitcher of water on the table, pouring some of the contents into a goblet, produced from under the bed and handed to Dorian, who drained the whole thing immediately, the feeling one of the best he had experienced in a while, so much so he let out an involuntary groan.

Bull let out a chuckle.

 

“Pace yourself,” he joked, refilling the goblet without being asked. Dorian couldn't help but smile a little, but it soon faded as the thoughts in his head rushed back.

“You said,” he cleared his throat as the words stuck a little. “You said twelve hours?” he asked softly, trying to distract himself.

 

Bull nodded, looking a little solemn.

“It's been just under, since you, well. You passed out in the tavern. I'm not going to sugar coat it,” Bull explained, setting the pitcher back down. Dorian swallowed hard before sipping at the goblet once more. “What on earth got you into that state in the first place?” Bull questioned softly, taking the goblet from Dorian's hands once he had finished with it.

 

The bed dipped as Bull sat on the edge to place the goblet back on the floor, also getting into a better position for a conversation Dorian began to accept, was now unavoidable.

 

He could lie, true, but Bull was ex-Ben Hassrath. He'd know in an instant.

 

“I thought you 'vints were meant to be all preening and beauty sleep,” Bull questioned gently, looking at Dorian with intense eyes, studying his reactions. Dorian's hands folded in his lap, picking at the edges of his nails, a nervous habit.

 

Dorian sighed.

“There has been a lot on my mind,” he confessed. Well it was a start, and it wasn't a lie. But how are you supposed to come out to a hulking qunari with something as complex as 'I'm pretty sure the woman you love is in love with me'?

 

Suddenly, it snapped into place. Was that what this was about? Dorian inhaled sharply. Love... was Hiera in love with him? Oh god, what if she was? Dorian suddenly felt sick again.

 

“Woah, are you ok?” Bull asked quickly, placing one hand on Dorian's shoulder as if supporting him. “You've gone white as a sheet.”

Dorian nodded, swallowing down bile in his throat

“I-I'm fine,” he stuttered. Bull was not convinced.

“Deep breaths,” the warrior supplied, breathing deeply himself, as if demonstrating. Dorian felt a sudden rush of gratitude for Bull.

 

The two hadn't really spent that much time together outside of camping in miserable conditions where tempers flared and emotions ran high, and then the banter they had while out wandering was usually crude or taunting. This side of Bull was... unexpected.

 

“Thank you,” Dorian murmured, unsure of what else to say. Bull offered a smile but no more words. Dorian heaved a sigh.

“There's... there's a lot going on... in my head... I...” He was terrified. He didn't even know what he was trying to explain here. Sighing in defeat, Dorian slumped his shoulders.

 

“Is this about what happened on the Plains?” Bull questioned after a moment. Dorian's gaze shot up to meet his, answering Bull's question. The qunari sighed.

 

“Look, she's been going on and on about it since it happened. She was scared. She was going on and on about 'what would have happened if I hadn't got there in time' and how she didn't want to lose anyone,” he sighed, “you know how she is. She's so protective. She knows she over reacted. She's just... not great, with the apologising.”

 

Dorian nodded at Bull's words, though they didn't really sink in. Cole's words were doing the rounds again.

“She loves you...”

 

“It's more than that,” Dorian found himself saying. Oh maker, was he really going to do this? Was he really going to put this on Bull? This could end badly.

 

“Do tell?” Bull asked, tensing for a moment. Dorian sighed again, tears stinging at his eyes. His heart was thundering in his chest, a mixture of fear, anger and confusion swirling in his head.

 

“It... Cole said... He was in her head... He told me...” Dorian took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. Bull was patient, leaning back on the bed, watching Dorian's face. “He... He said she... She loves me...” He trailed off, swallowing hard.

He tensed, eyes closed, waiting for a blow, for Bull to start shouting, objects to be thrown.

A couple of minutes passed, and Dorian cracked an eye open, finding Bull looking at him expectantly.

 

“And...” he qunari prompted him to continue. Dorian's eyes widened. For someone who had just been told the woman he loved was in love with another man, Bull was taking this considerably well. Maybe it was a ploy. He was actually plotting his revenge at that very moment, as he looked on, waiting.

 

“She... she loves me? How is... how... what?”

Dorian's head throbbed again. Part of him wished he hadn't said anything. Bull cleared his throat a little, more a gesture to fill the silence than anything.

 

“And that's a problem?” He finally asked when he realised Dorian was probably not going to do much more than sit and gawp like a fish out of water for the moment.

 

Dorian's head felt like it was about to explode. He wanted to grab the warrior by the horns and smash his face into the bed, smother him, for not taking this seriously. Anger flashed through Dorian.

 

“And you don't care?” he asked, a little louder than was probably appropriate. “That Hiera loves someone who prefers the company of men, that she has wasted affections, affections that should go on you, none of this is a problem? It's all fine, is it?”

 

Bull's eyebrows were nearly halfway up his forehead now. He had not been expecting _that_ reaction.

 

“I don't... Why would it be a...” The pieces clicked into place. “Oh. Ooh.” Bull fought a smile. Dorian's anger, his confusion, the tension between his and Hiera.

 

Oh, Cole needed a talking to, bless him.

 

“You need to go and talk to her,” Bull said, fighting a smile. Dorian stared in disbelief.

“You think this is funny? Is this a game to you? Her? This whole...” Dorian waved his arms dramatically, “relationship. Do you even care? I'm trying to figure this out.”

 

Bull's smile faded.

“Of course I care. Hiera is... she's kadan,” he began seriously.

“I have no idea what that means,” Dorian interrupted, crossing his arms, shoulders hunched now. Bull frowned at him.

“You're not supposed to,” he replied sternly. “But she knows. And I know. And... oh fuck Dorian, you need to go and talk to her. Just...”

 

“Kaffas,” Dorian breathed. “I... I don't know if...”

Bull felt a wave of pity rush over him. He had thought this situation funny to begin with, but it was becoming abundantly clear that this was truly distressing to Dorian.

“Just... give me a moment.”

 

Bull got up to leave. A surge of panic swept through Dorian, lighting his very veins on fire. “Bull, don't... I don't...”

 

The qunari sighed.

“She can explain it better... I...” another sigh. “I'm not good with all this feelings crap. Just... let me get her.”

 

Dorian shivered as the door opened again, the breeze rolling around the room as Bull left him alone with his thoughts.

Laying back, he sank into the pillows.

 

Why did this have to happen to him? He didn't want to steal Hiera from Bull. He didn't want her to love someone who couldn't love her back.

There was a brief second when the thought flashed at the back of his mind; _“maybe it would have been better if the ritual had worked.”_

 

Tears began to stream down his face.

 

“It wouldn't have been better. It would have torn and bitten inside.”

Dorian let out a yelp as he sat bolt upright, fear coursing through him.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten!” The spirit boy emerged from the shadows, hat pulled over his face.

 

“Vishante kaffas, Cole!” Dorian shouted, heart pounding. “How did you even get in here?!”

“The door,” Cole answered hesitantly. “I felt you hurting and I wanted to help.”

 

Anger rose through Dorian like magic flowing from the fade.

“Help? Help! Do you realise what you have done? You reached in and just plucked Hiera's little secret from her head and told me and now,” Dorian clutched at his chest, breathing heavy now, “now I had to tell Bull and he's getting her and I cannot stay. I cannot...”

 

Cole tilted his head to one side, looking infuriatingly like a confused puppy.

“Her secret?” he asked, genuinely confused.

“On the battlements,” Dorian was all but shouting now. “That she...” he lowered his voice to almost a whisper. “That she loves me. She loves me and I can't love her back. And I...” The tears began to flow again in earnest. “I cannot hurt her. I must leave, return... return home.”

 

Cole looked genuinely distressed.

“No!” he cried out, eyes wide under his hat. “That would hurt her more, and it would hurt you! You love her and she loves you and no one leaves! This isn't how it's meant to be! You are meant to be happy!” Cole groaned the last few words, pressing his hands to his face. “It's wrong, it's all wrong.”

 

Dorian was sobbing now, his chest aching as his mind rushed.

“How could this ever be right?” he cried, composure gone and he couldn't care less. “My father was right, I am broken. I never thought... I never wanted to hurt anyone but I always end up hurting people. I'm so broken.”

 

Cole moved closer.

“No, no, you're not broken. Hiera loves you, even though you are different.” But Dorian continued to sob.

“Don't, Cole, please. I can't ask her to love me and not be loved. I can't I... I just can't change...”

“But she doesn't want you to change, and you DO love her!” Cole replied, becoming agitated. “Why can't you see? It's right there!” he gestured in front of him.

 

The anger was back.

 

“Shut up! You stupid, idiotic spirit. Piss off back to the fade, you bastard. I can't. I like men, she's not a man, it's not right, I can't change,” he sobbed, gasping for breath now.

 

Cole looked crestfallen.

“No! Stop! It's not that love! It's love like a brother, like the brother she lost in her mothers womb. She protects you, and you protect her. She loves you, and she doesn't want you to change! Why can't you see?” he cried, desperate, hands flailing towards Dorian, as if he wanted to touch him, to comfort, but didn't know how.

 

Dorian stilled for a moment, Cole's words sinking in as his sobs continued to wrack his body.

“Like...like a... she...”

 

The words sank in like tiny anchors, weighing him back down, bringing him back down from hysteria.

 

“I'm... sorry,” Cole offered, stepping back, looking fearful now. “I... I didn't mean to... to break...” The door from the tavern opened suddenly, making them both jump as Hiera, still looking exhausted and Bull re-entered the room. Cole looked to the floor.

 

“I'm sorry,” he murmured. “I shouldn't... I didn't mean to hurt.” Hiera looked a little panicked at his words, eyes locking on Dorian's shuddering frame.

 

“What happened?” she questioned, moving to the mage, noting the tears on his cheeks.

“I tried to help,” Cole moaned, turning to flee, but Bull stopped him with one hand on his shoulder. The spirit looked scared for a moment, but quickly calmed under Bull's soft smile of reassurance.

“It's ok kid.” Cole nodded.

 

“Dorian?” Hiera tried, sitting on the edge of the bed, one hand moving to Dorian's hair, pushing it back from his face. He looked a wreck, his moustache no longer pruned to perfection, cheeks and eyes puffy and red, tears staining his face; He looked destroyed.

 

“I feel so stupid,” Dorian muttered, leaning towards Hiera's touch. The mage smiled, shifting on the bed to lay next to Dorian, who melted into her embrace. He felt so relieved.

“What happened?” Hiera asked softly, stroking Dorian's hair as he moved to lay on her stomach. Bull watched the interaction with affection, and gently began to guide Cole from the room. Hiera offered him a thankful smile as the two disappeared back into the tavern.

 

Dorian jumped slightly at the door closing, swallowing hard as he buried his face in Hiera's shoulder and began to sob again.

 

A few minutes passed, and Hiera simply lay and continued stroking his hair, reassuring him and murmuring soft reassurances where needed.

 

Finally, Dorian sniffed, pulling back to look at Hiera. She too had tears in her eyes, but a gentle smile on her face.

 

Dorian sighed, bringing a hand up to stroke her face in return.

“Cole told me that you loved me,” he confessed, wiping away tears with the back of his hand. “The day in the ramparts, when you...”

 

Hiera cleared her throat.

“Sorry about that,” she mumbled sheepishly. “I've been meaning to...” Dorian waved his hand between them.

“In the past,” he chuckled softly. “But, yes, he told me that you loved me and I...” he paused.

 

Hiera pulled back a little, confused.

“I do love you, Dorian, more than I could explain,” she stated, hurt cutting her voice a little. Dorian smiled a tiny bit. To hear her say it...

“Oh Hiera, I love you too,” he murmured, drawing her close. It felt to good to finally say it, the buzzing in his head abating. He was finally beginning to understand.

 

Hiera rubbed his back gently.

“Then, uh... what's the problem?” she asked with a small laugh. Dorian chuckled through a sob, drawing back to look at Hiera again.

“You will think me such a fool,” he admitted, regaling his tale of confusion to her, his thoughts and how they had taken over.

 

Tears shone in her eyes by the end of his tale.

“I just... no one has ever even... even claimed to love me,” Dorian sniffed, a little ashamed. “And certainly not without wanting something in return... something... physical...” he trailed off.

 

Hiera swallowed the anger rising in her throat for all the people who had ever hurt her dear Dorian.

“You know I would never,” she began, but Dorian hushed her.

“I should have,” he admitted. “I just... I cared... I care about you but I never... I didn't.” More tears leaked from his eyes.

 

Hiera sighed, stroking Dorian's face, wiping the tears away.

“Oh, Dorian,” her voice trembled as she kissed his forehead, his body beginning to shake with sobs again. “There are many types of love,” she explained softly, holding him close. “I love you like a brother, like you are family. You are my dearest friend, one of the people I care the most in the world about,” she began to cry again herself. “Never think that you ever owe me anything. You have already given me the greatest gift I could ever ask for in your friendship.”

 

Dorian sobbed harder. The weight that had settled on him lifted, he felt so relieved, so happy.

“I love you too,” he sobbed, the relief at being able to say it freely almost tangible.

 

When Bull came back around half an hour later, he found the two, tear stained faces and all, tangled in each others limbs, Dorian's face against Hiera's chest, listening to her heartbeat. He felt a terrible rush of affection for the two as he settled into the armchair in the corner of the room, content to watch over them as they slept, both finally at peace after a long week.

 


End file.
